Texty: Alive In Wild Paint. Forecasting.

Fog keeps to this cty
Like shame down on your sundays
How quickly you forget that it exists
Takes remnders that your best is always intercepted
By the skeptics to keep you where you are
Nowhere
In a loft above the station
Where the window wastes your patience
Away from all affection
Losing faith in a connection
You keep to his body
Like rain down on your sundays
How quickly he forgets that you exist
And he never comes alive
Quite the way you'd like
It keeps you where you are
And no one asks you down
And no one takes you out
Just waste all of your patience
In a loft above the station
Come down for me

(Thanks to jean for these lyrics)